


Close Encounters

by hithelleth



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hotels, no blackout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: It was just a moment – or a few – of madness.





	1. Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a tumblr drabble and then two and has now sprouted into a WIP. I have no idea where it's going, but it's going somewhere, so I thought it would be better to post it as a separate work than in the prompts collection. Inspired by the [60 Moods of Summer](http://theorgyarmada.tumblr.com/post/145424509259/your-summer-challenge-armada) prompts.

Bass gets to work well after midnight when the hotel at last falls silent, the partying vacationers having tired themselves out and the early-rising business people not yet up. He is done cleaning the pools before dawn and he sits down in a shaded corner, enjoying the peace and quiet of those last dark cool minutes that offer reprieve from the summer heat.

When he first sees her, he thinks she might be a figment of his imagination as she approaches the pool like a vision in a white satin robe, the moonlight that reflects on the water making her skin glow like ivory and her long ashen blonde hair shine like silver.

He chokes on his beer when she drops her robe at the edge of the pool, revealing she wears nothing under it, but she doesn’t even flinch as she looks in his direction as if she had known he was there the whole time, pausing for a moment, then shrugs and jumps into the pool with an elegance of a dolphin – no, a siren, and he gapes at her like a creep before he finds his voice, “You know, you’re not supposed to go in naked.”

She swims over, propping herself with her forearms on the edge nearest to him, slowly looking him over and giving him one hell of a view of her gorgeous breasts before he can muster the strength to look away, while she laughs softly, the sound making his already straining cock twitch, before she returns – her voice is that of a siren, too, innocent and sultry at once, “Well, what are you gonna do, force me out or join me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this looks familiar, it's because I've first posted it on tumblr and in prompts collection. If not, don't hesitate to tell me what you think, comments are always welcome.


	2. Forbidden

Charlie has to give it to the guy: he tries not to look; but she is merciless and doesn’t give him much of a choice, putting herself shamelessly on display.

_She woke up with her head full of the data for the meetings and presentations scheduled for the day – she had dreamt them, as usually – and decided it wasn’t worth trying to fall back asleep only to accomplish it half an hour before she had to get up. It would have left her wrecked much more than forgoing sleep for the rest of the night, of which there were less than a couple of hours left. Instead, she headed out to the poolside to clear her head, not bothering with clothes other than a robe._

_She didn’t plan to go swimming. Or skinny dipping._

_But then she saw him from the corner of her eye, the moon giving enough light despite the shadows he chose to sit in to see him gape at her as if she were a ghost, or maybe a fairy._

_It made something wild stir inside her, and she disregarded all the usual warnings in her head – besides, she could handle anyone who would try anything she didn’t want to perfectly well, and the hotel security was close enough if she screamed – and dropped her robe, putting up a show as she jumped into the pool._

“Both of those options would get me in trouble,” he says.

Charlie laughs, low and throaty – and not even on purpose. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She pushes herself out of the water, and, oh, it takes long precious seconds before he manages to avert his eyes.

(It makes her dripping wet, and not from water.)

“Towel?” she asks. But her mouth is dry, and she has to clear her throat while he scrambles off to fetch the required item from a stack on the other side as she follows him with her eyes.

There’s something familiar about him she can’t quite put a finger to. He is tall and tan and gorgeous – she could lick all those damn muscles. And, well, she looks, doesn’t even pretend not to, noticing the hard outline of his cock as he comes back with a towel, holding it out while looking somewhere over her head.

She smirks, taking note of his curly hair and the blue in his eyes and suddenly it strikes her where she has seen the features of his face before: photos upon photos of the Uncle they don’t talk about and his best friend, smiling and hugging in the desert in marine uniforms and in shorts and T-shirts against the backdrop of Jasper…

Charlie chokes out a “Thanks,” – or is it more of a moan? – as she wraps herself in the towel and takes the robe he picked up on the way from his hands, not quite able to grasp his reply (“You’re welcome,” he rasps, as she’ll remember later), and maybe, maybe she smiles at him, or maybe a part of her drowns in his eyes as she leaves.

The part of getting back to her room is blurry, and her legs give in the moment she closes the door behind her, sliding down against it, her fingers already finding the way between her folds. She closes her eyes, imagining it is his hands and mouth on her body when she takes herself apart, rough and fast, biting her bottom lip bloody and still failing to silence her cry as she comes on her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has been previously posted on tumblr, too.


	3. Dreamy

As Bass makes his way to the bungalows at the edge of the hotel’s property where he and some of the staff live, he still isn’t sure whether she wasn’t just a dream, a hallucination, conjured by the moon. Or, maybe too many years of too much booze have finally caught up with him and scrambled his brains.

He strips while heading for the bathroom, fully intending to get a cold shower, because, well, he isn’t gonna jerk off to the fantasy. He is not. It would be creepy. Granted, she did flaunt herself before him, but… Still.

His cock twitches at the memory, though, as it springs free when he pushes his shorts and boxers off before stepping into the shower. He wraps his hand around it before he can think better as he turns the water on.

Fuck. Bass slumps against the shower wall, his head lolling back.

Fine. He just needs to release some tension. He isn’t going to think about her. Not at all. Hell, he doesn’t even know her name. (It must be something luscious to fit her.)

He tries, okay? He tries to think of something else, anything else, anyone else, but his mind returns again and again to those delicious curves, the reflection of moonlight on her silky skin, the swell of her breasts, damn miles of legs, and those lips...  while he tugs at his cock, faster and faster, slicking pre-cum around his head as the pressure builds at the base of his spine.

It is remembering her voice when she laughed, the way she half-moaned her thanks when she took the towel from him that does it for him. He groans and comes in hot white spurts like a goddamn teen, cursing through his teeth afterwards while catching his breath.

When he passes the front desk hours later, the sun hot and blinding in the zenith, Clayton stops him, sliding an envelope across the counter.

“A guest asked after you,” she says. “She left a note.” Nora grimaces, but not unkindly, her eyes warm as she warns him, “Try to not get us sued, would you?”

Bass nods, absentmindedly, turning the envelope in his fingers before he rips it open. “I promise.”

Her writing is all curvy elegance: _Are hotel employees allowed to have dinner when off the clock? Say, 8-ish?”_

There is a business card enclosed.

_Charlotte Porter._

_Charlotte_. He can almost taste it, exquisite, on his tongue. Then the last name registers with him and he stops in his tracks as if someone punched the wind out of his lungs.

It can’t be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fresh new chapter! I have two more already written, but I'll post them with a few days in between. Comments are always welcome.


	4. Candle

Charlie isn’t sure whether he will show up.

She tells herself she doesn’t care. It is just a test, anyway. An exorcism. Surely now, at a civilised hour, with people around – although her request for some privacy got her a booth that is almost completely shielded from prying eyes with roses and a candle on the table – the illusion, the attraction will fade.

It was just a moment – or a few – of madness.

_After she got her bearings and took a shower, she did some googling that got her nowhere. She lasted the whole 10 minutes it took her to get her things together for the day and order breakfast before she caved in and called Danny to do his computer magic._

_An hour later, just before she was about to leave her room, her email notification popped up, only a sentence from Danny accompanying the attachments._

**What the fuck, Charlie?**

_The info dump told her why._

**_Don’t tell mom. At least not yet_ ** _, she texted back._

**I’m not an idiot,** _was Danny’s reply._

He shows up, dressed up in a pair of slacks and a shirt that clings to his body just so, and the madness returns. (It hasn’t gone anywhere.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd had this finished weeks ago but I wasn't sure about it, but I went back to look at this fic today and decided that I liked this chapter after all, so here it is.


	5. Sparring

“I remember you,” she says after he takes a seat, his back to the room, exposed even with the wooden panel behind him. She, of course, sits with her back to the wall.

(His first mistake was arriving late. Not late as per the clock, but not early enough to be there first.)

His scepticism must show on his face, because she adds, “You brought me balloons.”

(It was her birthday. The first after the accident. Angie’s birthday would’ve been in less than two weeks. He might have cried.)

He must have zoned out for a moment, because a remnant of a wistful expression disappears from her face when she scoffs.

“Please, don’t play dumb. It’s beneath both of us.”

“I’m not the one using an alias, _Charlotte_.” The accusation slips from his tongue.

For a moment, she looks bashful. Then she shrugs. “I started using it when I went to college. Wanted to earn the grades by myself, not through my last name.”

The guilt he has been struggling with through the day comes back with a blow – he was reviled with himself when it clicked in his mind that the nightly apparition was the blonde angel whose picture Miles still displayed on the mantelpiece in his suite.

It doesn’t help for long, though, doesn’t prevent him noticing the way her dress hugs her curves, or the shape of her lips, or the way she smiles when she tells him she has had Danny snoop around.

He misses the part about snooping, because…

“Daniel is alive?”

Regretting the question the second he hears himself – it is just that all he remembers was a little boy hooked on a bunch of wires who was not supposed to make it – he is about to apologize for being inappropriate.

However, Charlie smiles. “Yes, he’s doing great.”

(His second mistake is letting his guard down.)

The waiter appears and they navigate through ordering and eating while making small talk, carefully avoiding dropping in anything big but the little things about their lives, while the atmosphere charges with something entirely different from the appearances they are trying to keep up, and the intimate surroundings aren’t helpful at all.

She stands up when they are done. “I could use some air,” she says. “Coming?”

(His third mistake is saying yes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's summer. Again! Um, so. I know it's been ages since I updated but somehow winter + summer prompts didn't go well together and when I wasn't tutoring, I spent my writing time with the Ice Nation instead. ;) But I also wrote and rewrote additional three chapters of this story some time in between, but then I hated them and never got to post them. 
> 
> This week I'm finally free of tutoring and translating and I'm supposed to be finishing the aforementioned fic, but we have the first heat wave of the summer and my health is bothering me and I need a bit more time to get into that and someone (it was Jade! You can go blame/thank her.) on tumblr made me have Revo feels, so I opened this and reread it and decided it's not so bad after all, just needs a little polishing, let's say? Yeah.
> 
> So, here it is, another chapter, and I'll probably post the two I've already written ones one per day over the weekend as I edit them. I'm not sure how/if/when I'll continue after that, however, but I hope at least these will make you happy. 
> 
> I should stop rambling before the notes get longer than the chapter, but, please, tell me what you think, comments are always welcome!


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